Poetry is no place for a heart that's a whoreAnd I'm young & I'm strongBut I feel old & tiredOverfired

And I've been poked & stokedIt's all smoke, there's no more fireOnly desireFor you, whoever you areFor you, whoever you are

You say my time here has been some sort of jokeThat I've been messing aroundSome sort of incubating periodFor when I really come aroundI'm cracking upAnd you have no idea

No idea how it feels to be on your ownIn your own homeWith the fucking phoneAnd the mother of gloomIn your bedroomStanding over your headWith her hand in your headWith her hand in your head

I will not pretendI will not put on a smileI will not say I'm all right for youWhen all I wanted was to be goodTo do everything in truthTo do everything in truth

Oh I wish I wish I wish I was born a manSo I could learn how to stand up for myselfLike those guys with guitarsI've been watching in barsWho've been stamping their feet to a different beatTo a different beatTo a different beat

I will not pretendI will not put on a smileI will not say I'm all right for youWhen all I wanted was to be goodTo do everything in truthTo do everything in truth